Through Luagarne-style tactical swordsmanship, he draws, erases, and redraws countless lines.
'Making my body into a single sword.'
Tactics become the tool of swordsmanship. That's how one cuts through the battlefield.
Through restraint, he revealed neither presence nor Will, charging forward with the power of his trained body alone. Thus, he found his next target and thrust Tri-Iron into it.
If he stepped his left foot outward, he could stab with more force, but now wasn't the time for such luxuries.
Therefore, he kept his stride narrow and instead added the rotational force gained from twisting his waist as he thrust forward.
He condensed and exploded the elasticity of his entire body's muscles while loading Will as well.
The blade skillfully pierced through the Scaler's scales, passed the jaw, and tore through the crown of its head.
Thunk! Squelch.
Blood and brain matter followed the blade as he withdrew it immediately after insertion, but this was land swept by storm. The foreign matter on the blade was quickly washed away.
Crack!
Lightning struck nearby, tearing at his hearing. The world that had appeared through the sound of rain turned pure white. For a moment, it was like losing sight to blinding light.
Enkrid stopped, momentarily dulling his senses.
It was difficult to move right now. Everything visible was shaking as if an earthquake had occurred.
However, just because he stopped didn't mean he should waste time.
Though he always gave his best without letting any day pass as merely another passing day, now he needed to use time even more densely than usual. So he did exactly that.
'Minimize movements too.'
In the brief gap, he reflected on the process of killing the monster moments before.
Hadn't he consumed a bit of time in the process of approaching his target?
As a result, one young fighter who mixed Ael Karaz-style martial arts with swordsmanship had been briefly caught by psychokinesis.
Just from that, the child had faced a life-threatening situation.
He had seen one membrane-winged Scaler targeting the child, diving down in a steep descent.
Though that one was shot down by Rilee's flying dagger, the young swordsman had his forearm scratched.
It was a deeper wound than just a scratch, so he bled profusely, and whether poison was mixed in the monster's claws, his subsequent movements became very sluggish.
He wouldn't die, but one combat-available person had been reduced. If such incidents repeated, eventually their allies would be pushed back.
To put it more simply.
'He nearly died.'
One young child becoming a corpse, face-down on the ground turned to mud by the storm. Though it hadn't happened, his mind automatically imagined that moment.
It wasn't good.
Enkrid had no intention of letting any of those standing behind him die.
So what should he do?
"Ask questions. And find answers."
That's what Luagarne-style tactical swordsmanship says.
Whoosh.
Raindrops poured down, opening the black and white world once again. He closed his eyes and saw with his ears.
To the question 'how,' there was only one answer.
'Reduce errors.'
No one is perfect. Even reducing errors isn't enough.
What next? Reduce movement lines to buy time. Create breathing room.
How to draw minimal movement lines?
'Mark points.'
Then connect those points by the shortest distance.
Like traversing a precarious cliff, running along the tightrope called limits.
Creak.
His ankle bent smoothly as it pushed against the ground. The boot sole dug into the soggy earth. The wet soil pushed by the boot bottom layered and hardened, becoming a support.
Enkrid leaped to the first marked point.
If one looked down at the battlefield from above, they would see that the graceful lines he had drawn before had now become straight lines.
'Lightly strike things that pass by.'
Only push, hit, and cut things that get in the way.
He advanced with Tri-Iron in his right hand and Penna in his left, moving as if lightly tapping. He felt the battlefield's flow with his body. Instinct determined the next target. He turned direction toward it again. While doing so, he casually thrust Tri-Iron to the side.
Thunk!
A Scaler holding a black spear got caught at the elbow by his sword tip. Enkrid pulled the sword while running.
Crack!
No matter how well-sharpened a famous sword is, it doesn't cut just by being placed against flesh. Moreover, when the opponent is a monster called a Scaler with hard scales. Yet Enkrid continued to stab and cut.
How? He did it with force.
So it would be more accurate to say he tore it off with force rather than cutting it.
He stabbed near the elbow and without withdrawing the sword, broke it off with force. Naturally, the severed cross-section was rough, and naturally it was twice as painful as just being cut.
Screeeech!
Thanks to that, the Scaler let out a scream. Since that scream also had an alarm effect announcing an enemy's presence here, all surrounding monsters turned their heads, but naturally Enkrid had already vacated his position.
Enkrid still ran with swords hanging in both hands.
Whoosh.
The storm continuously soaked his swords and entire body. Thanks to this, there was no chance of getting soaked in blood.
Whether due to assimilation or because the wind was too fierce, the driving wind seemed to pass between his ribs. It felt quite refreshing.
'Or maybe it's refreshing because I'm directly taking action.'
Separate from his thoughts, his hands and feet were busy.
Thud, ting, thunk, squelch.
To someone else, it might be noise, but to Enkrid it became afterimages lingering in his mind. These were sounds made from repeatedly seeing through sound, moving, and striking down those with supernatural abilities.
And with just this, change occurred in the river called the battlefield.
Can a single human change the flow of a river? If one stacks large stones one by one and constantly digs earth to make paths, it might be possible. Because there are people who create waterways like that.
The time needed for that would be at least several days, or as long as several months or years.
Since Knights are calamities, they could carve new waterways in battlefields and rivers in a short time.
Like terrain changing due to natural disasters. Just as earthquakes create new paths, Knights can do that.
Just like what Enkrid was doing now.
Hissssss!
The sorcery serpent floating overhead cried. That sound covered the entire battlefield. Hearts beat in rhythm with the snake's cry.
'Is this the pressure shown by higher monsters?'
Just hearing the cry raised goosebumps and made one feel like they should immediately turn around, with hair standing on end.
Causeless fear, formless terror demanded a response from his entire body.
To tremble in fright.
Naturally, it was useless against Enkrid. Also, there was no one here who would collapse to this degree. But there would be adverse effects.
Just then, Rilee shouted with venom from behind. His shout could be heard and his form could be seen. Though quite far away, there was no problem seeing regardless of distance.
This was an advantage of auditory vision. Of course, there were disadvantages too. The black and white world consisted entirely of lines and achromatic colors. Things like bulging veins in the neck weren't visible.
Well, even without seeing such things, they were within the realm of imagination.
"Those out of strength, catch your breath!"
Thick veins would be standing out on Rilee's neck as he shouted like this.
"Whohoho!"
The same for Anahera shouting from far away.
These were people enduring before the surging wave of monsters. They couldn't hold out forever.
'Must conserve stamina and fight to the end.'
In that regard, Rilee could be called an excellent aide. Since he originally fought on one leg, his stamina consumption was twice that of others. Therefore, even though this was his first time doing this, he would know that fighting like this would lead to death from exhaustion.
So he would fight with focus on stamina management.
'Hold on.'
Enkrid neither stopped walking nor raised his head, but he felt someone's gaze.
That gaze was violent and full of killing intent.
Beyond the black and white world drawn by the storm, the monster serving as sorcery's medium stared fixedly this way. Medusa's gaze. Even without looking with his eyes, he could feel the pressure.
'A monster that non-Knights wouldn't dare challenge.'
So it gave such pressure with just a gaze.
High-ranking monsters instinctively use techniques similar to a Knight's intimidation. They instill fear toward targets they view as prey.
Making humans, intelligent species, like frogs that can't move before a snake.
The cry of that sorcery serpent crying overhead would also be part of Medusa's intimidation.
The Demon Realm would be full of such monsters.
That's why until now, all intelligent species couldn't conquer the Demon Realm but could only fight and endure.
So was it scary? Not at all.
Someday he would meet all the monsters living in the Demon Realm.
If it were easy to achieve, it couldn't be called a dream. Enkrid's dreams were always difficult to achieve and seemingly impossible. That's how they appeared.
'Cut them all down.'
There was no room for petty worries to intrude on his simple and straightforward goal.
The greatness of the person called Heskal struck his heart anew.
The very tactic of using Medusa as a medium for sorcery rather than deploying her on the battlefield was amazing.
'More efficient deployment.'
A tactic that slowly gnawed away at stamina.
Indeed, Heskal should be called clever.
How many had he killed like this? He had cut and stabbed to the point where counting numbers became meaningless. Since he used Will restrainedly, he steadily reduced numbers without intimidation or explosive momentum.
Enkrid's current visible range was twice as wide as when seeing with his eyes.
So he could read opponents' movements before instinct warned him.
'Skilled.'
Someone had watched what he was doing and prepared a net. As he marked points and moved between monsters, there were eight archers aiming at him from all directions, and dozens of arrows with black tips floating in the air even in the storm.
Among them, he also saw a lone 'human' wearing a helmet. Clad in thin iron plate armor of some material that gave off a subtle glow even in the rain.
Looking at the situation alone, he had become prey that rushed into a net after only seeing the bait.
Since it only appeared now within his auditory vision's range, it wouldn't be a hastily prepared net.
Well, maybe it wasn't, but it felt that way.
"Didn't you say that guy was ordinary Knight-level strength?"
Dremül's chief disciple could see Enkrid's movements thanks to having a monster's eye embedded in his forehead.
Heskal, not having such eyes, couldn't read Enkrid's presence or follow his movements with his eyes, but he knew he was up to something.
As soon as he disappeared, monsters with supernatural abilities were falling one by one, so considering the cause and effect, understanding the current situation wasn't difficult.
Also, observing the battlefield from a distance made it easy to grasp the situation.
'Up close you see trees, from afar you see the forest.'
A woodcutter only needs to cut the tree in front of him, but a forest keeper looks at the entire forest and cuts trees only to an appropriate level.
In this regard, Heskal was closer to being a forest keeper.
"I was surprised too."
"Nothing flows as expected."
"The opponent is Zaun. They should show this much hidden strength."
"It doesn't seem like Zaun is showing that strength though?"
That's why it was more surprising. The same with diseases sufficient to be called curses not spreading further.
'Border Guard's Enkrid, fights well indeed.'
This was more curious to Heskal.
Though admiration might come outwardly, Heskal only opened his mouth with a composed attitude.
"I have something prepared. It was meant to catch Rynox, but that should be sufficient."
Heskal said. The eye embedded in the disciple's forehead blinked twice. Through the blinking, his eye changed its viewing perspective. Where his gaze turned was toward the Family Head and Alexandra.
"Will you just leave that side alone?"
Even though it was words thrown without context, Heskal understood well enough. Originally, this battlefield was a picture that came from his own mind.
"This degree can't be said to have drained their strength. Those whose chronic illness should have flared up and weakened them are fine."
"Blasphemous. Do you blame the god's abilities?"
"That's not it."
If it were Zaun, he had expected they would do this much.
He had killed Milestia to prevent exactly this, yet they endured.
Right, not everything goes as one wishes. If it had been that easy, there wouldn't have been need to go this far.
"Now it begins."
Having said this, Heskal raised his head to look at the sky. Due to the dark clouds and rain, it was difficult to open his eyes properly.
Unless one picked up a monster's eye somewhere and embedded it in their forehead, they couldn't properly see the sky.
Should this be called fortunate?
"Whew."
Though Heskal had said it was now beginning, he let out a long sigh.
Somewhere in that breath seemed mixed with bitterness, but Dremül's disciple probably couldn't hear it.
Even if his eyes were special, his ears were human ones.
Since the disciple couldn't leave his position, those who would step forward were decided.
Even if part of the picture drawn in his mind was ruined, the overall framework remained the same. Heskal looked ahead to the future. Nothing would change. Victory was his.
"Do you want to obtain divinity? Be faithful, Heskal of Zaun."
"I know."
Heskal said as he took a step. It was his turn to step forward too.
"Ask your master to bring out what he's prepared."
"One Death Knight should be able to cut down that Family Head fellow and those standing beside him."
"That's your opinion. I have command authority over this battle."
Andante had become a Knight returned from death. With that, could he kill at least Alexandra?
Who knows.
"If you lose even after your master's escort steps forward, you won't be able to save your life either."
"If I'm still alive after losing the battle, I'll hang myself and die on my own."
The words about hanging himself if he lost were sincere.
Heskal was sincere about everything. And this was something he had learned from the Family Head.
'Whatever you do, you must do it with sincerity.'
For instance, even if you try to deceive someone, you must put sincerity into it.
Watching the Family Head's such creed and lifestyle, what he had awakened was his current swordsmanship.
Even deceptive swords were done with sincerity.
He didn't think his sword would work on the Family Head. Then where should his sword be directed?
The answer was decided.
'Sorry about this.'
Ragna, if he killed the returned prodigal son first, even the Family Head's stone-like heart would waver.
That would eventually become a factor that clouded judgment and create an opportunity for this side to gain advantage.
Heskal went to find Ragna in sync with four monsters moving to keep the Family Head occupied.
By coincidence, Ragna was also taking steps at just that moment.